Maybe Someday
by Root4AF
Summary: Root survives the events of 5x10 and is forced into hiding until Samaritan is defeated. When the Machine reunites her with Shaw, the pair soon discover that the fight against Samaritan is not truly over.
1. Chapter 1

Root attempted to sit up on the hospital bed, but the movement sent a surge of pain through her still healing wound that made her head spin. Defeated, she lay back on the uncomfortable mattress and listened to the consistent bleeps of the heart monitor that stood beside her. The pain, at least, was a reminder that she was somehow still alive, even when she had no right to be.

As she lay there, her mind drifted to thoughts of the others. To thoughts of Harold, and the fact that he was alive, that he could do what needed to be done. Root thought of Shaw, of what she must be feeling at the moment. Then the dread built up again as she thought of the pain she would cause Shaw when she did what she knew she had to do. She wished there was another way.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Fusco entered the room. "You're lucky to be alive," he said, closing the door behind him.

Root did her best to smile. "I see you got my message Lionel." She paused. This was really it. Root drew a deep breath. "I need to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" Fusco frowned. "You're not usually one to ask permission. What is it?"

"I need to die."

"What?" Horror spread across the detective's face. "Look," he continued. "I know your plans can be crazy at times but this is full blown nuts. I'm not helping you die."

Despite everything, Root let out a soft laugh. "I don't mean actually die, but I can see your confusion." Fusco became more relaxed at hearing that, but it was clear he was still concerned. "I need to disappear, Lionel," explained Root. "Everyone needs to believe I'm dead, just for a little bit."

For a moment Fusco seemed to consider the idea. "So I've just got to tell everyone you're dead, that's it?"

Root nodded. "I'll also need some help convincing the police that I've died, but yeah that's basically it."

Fusco sighed, and he frowned again. "Have you thought this through?" He asked.

Root hissed through her teeth as she tried to sit up again. This time she was able to prop herself up against the headrest. She looked the detective straight in the eyes as she replied. "It has to be done. There's nothing else to consider."

Fusco moved closer, his tone becoming more serious. "If I'm gonna help you, I need to know that you're prepared to face any consequences this might have."

Root made an effort to look disinterested. "I'm prepared for whatever happens."

"You sure about that? Because I might not know you that well but it's pretty obvious you're in love with Shaw." Root looked away. She knew where he was going with this, and she didn't want to hear it anymore.

"Please, don't…"

Fusco shook his head. "No, you need to hear this. This is gonna hurt her, a lot. She might not want anything to do with you when you come back."

Root shot him an angry look. "Don't you think I already know that? But I'd rather love someone who hates me than someone who's dead because of me."

Root saw Fusco's face soften, but he still didn't seem convinced. She didn't have time for this. "You really want to know how serious I am?" She placed her hand on her wound, wincing slightly at the touch. Then she continued, her voice laced with menace. "If you don't help me, then I will kill myself. It's the only other way to keep them alive."

Fusco went to laugh, but then he must have seen the certainty in Root's eyes because he frowned again. "You're serious."

"This isn't a game to me," said Root, her voice deadly serious. "I won't risk people dying because of me."

Finally, the detective conceded. "Alright, I'll help you. Just don't kill yourself."

"Thank you," replied Root, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I have much choice," muttered Fusco to himself as Root began to detail her plan.

Root had kept the plan as simple as possible, and Fusco was on his way out to finish the final preparations when she called out to him. "One more thing," she said as he came back into the room. "Keep an eye on Shaw for me. Just make sure she doesn't try to do anything stupid."

Fusco laughed. "With you lot, that's easier said than done." Root looked at him pleadingly. "I'll do what I can."

The detective hesitated before leaving. He turned back to Root, who braced herself for the incoming question. "If you're planning on coming back soon, does that mean this is nearly over?"

Root nearly gave out a sigh of relief; at least this was a simple question she could answer. "My 'death' should push a few people in the right direction and then, yes, this is nearly over." Satisfied, Fusco gave her one last smile before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Once again Root found herself alone in the hospital bed. This time though, her thoughts dwelled on Shaw more than anyone else. Would she really hate her for doing this? That one thought scared her more than anything else. She was less afraid to die, than to live in a world where the woman who made it worth living in wanted nothing to do with her. The Machine had given her purpose, and Root would be forever grateful for that, but Shaw had given her life. She wasn't sure she could ever face losing that.

—

The familiar sound of a ringing phone stopped Shaw in her tracks. For a moment, she stared in disbelief at it, thinking that maybe she'd just imagined the sound. But the phone kept ringing, so Shaw answered.

As soon as she put the phone to her ear, Shaw knew it was the Machine. She wasn't even surprised it had managed to survive the virus. However, she was surprised, even a little disappointed, to not hear Root's voice. Instead, the Machine had gone back to using various voices again.

Shaw didn't know what to make of that. A small, hopeful part of her thought that maybe, despite everything, Root was alive and that was why the Machine had stopped using her voice. The more logical side of her, however, knew it was probably just a side effect of the Machine restarting and that sooner or later Root's voice would return.

She smiled anyway as she put the phone down. Either way, it meant she hadn't truly lost Root and she could at least take some comfort in that. Bear followed Shaw as she headed down the street. The Machine hadn't given her a number, but it had given her an address. She'd go there soon; she just had a stop to make first.

Fusco looked up from his computer as Shaw approached his desk. "Didn't expect to see you again so soon," remarked the detective.

"Just came to drop off Bear," replied Shaw, handing Fusco the dog's leash. "I've got work to do."

Fusco took his glasses off and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of work? I thought Glasses killed the Machine, and you're not exactly fit for a day job."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You should know by now it takes a lot more than that to kill the Machine." Shaw knelt down to stroke Bear who gave an affectionate whimper when she turned to leave.

Shaw hesitated before leaving. Shaking her head, she turned back to Fusco who she noticed had already returned to his own work. She sighed, already regretting the question she was about to ask. "Hey Fusco," she said, regaining the detective's attention. "You...uh...you saw Root's body right?"

"Yeah, only for a brief moment though. Why?"

"It's probably nothing," muttered Shaw. "It's just, the Machine stopped using Root's voice and now it's given me an address and I thought that maybe-"

"You think she might be alive," concluded Fusco. Shaw nodded. She must sound so crazy right now. "You know," said Fusco. "If anyone's crazy enough to fake their death and get away with it, it's Cocoa Puffs." He smiled. "If your gut is telling you she's alive, maybe you should follow it."

Shaw gave a small laugh. "Maybe you're right, thanks Lionel."

Shaw left the precinct thinking about what Fusco had said. She'd expected him to tell her she was crazy, to confirm Root's death, but if anything he'd done the opposite. As she headed to the address the Machine had given to her, Shaw allowed that small flicker of hope to build up again. If there was even the smallest piece of evidence to suggest Root was alive, she'd follow it until she had the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a knock at the door of the safe house. Root was so shocked to hear it that she thought she'd imagined it until the door resounded again. She glanced at the array of monitors she'd set up to keep an eye on the outside world while she was in hiding. Pointless really, she thought. To keep hidden from Samaritan there were no cameras in the building, which meant that she too was blind. The Machine remained silent in her ear, so it seemed that whoever it was on the other side of the door, it didn't know.

Samaritan was gone now, and although Root had been preparing to finally find Shaw again, she wouldn't be surprised if Samaritan's final revenge was standing behind her door. "If this is it," she said, picking up a gun, "make sure Sameen gets my message." The Machine gave her a brief assurance before the silence returned.

It was a silly idea, really, the whole message thing. Root had made it mostly just as a way of distracting herself. But it was more than that, she supposed. It gave her the chance to explain to Shaw why she'd done what she'd done, even if she never got the opportunity to tell her in person. After Samaritan had been defeated, Root had assumed she wouldn't need it. Now she wasn't so sure.

Root had barely pressed herself against the wall when the door burst open. She reacted quickly, knocking the gun out of the hand of the intruder as they entered. The attacker was fast too, grabbing Root's now exposed wrist and twisting her round. A sharp strike to the back of her knee followed, sending her to the ground. Just as she was about to turn around and return the favour, the attacker spoke. "Root?"

Root couldn't help but smile at the sound of the voice she'd so desperately wanted to hear. She placed her gun on the ground as she turned slowly to face Shaw. "We need to stop meeting like this," she said, now standing. Shaw looked at her in disbelief.

"I don't believe it," she said, shaking her head. "I'd hoped you were alive but… You're really here. I thought I'd lost you"

Seeing the pain on Shaw's face, all the fear came flooding back to Root. "Sameen," she began. "I can explain."

Shaw grabbed her, and then, in a rare display of affection, hugged her. Root wasn't sure what to do as Shaw held her tight, and she found herself cupping the back of Shaw's head with her hand. In that moment, she was reminded of her last reunion with Shaw and just how close she'd come to losing her before. Root did her best to hold back tears as she held her close. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

Shaw eventually released Root and cupped her face in her hands. "I don't care why you did this," she said, gently stroking her cheek. "I just care that you're here." Root went to explain, but Shaw pulled her in and kissed her. It was a soft, intimate kiss, unlike their usual more passionate kisses, but Root had to admit she liked the change of pace. She melted into Shaw's arms and, just for a second, all the pain and horrors of the past few months faded away.

Shaw released Root and for a moment there was a brief silence. There was so much Root wanted to say, so much she wanted to explain, but it just didn't feel like the right moment. Instead, she found herself asking, "So how did you find me?"

Shaw frowned. "The Machine gave me the address, didn't tell me you were here though.."

"Funny," replied Root, glancing over at the monitors. "She didn't tell me anything."

"Maybe she wanted to surprise you."

Root ran her thumb over Shaw's cheek. "Well it's the best surprise I could have asked for." She tilted Shaw's chin up and planted a kiss on her lips. "I will never get bored of doing that."

Shaw gave a small smile, but then her eyes widened and she gripped Root's arm. "We need to go," she said. "Fusco, he needs to know you're alive."

Root traced a finger lightly down Shaw's arm. "You know, he doesn't need to know that you've found me just yet. I'm sure Lionel can wait a bit longer." She cocked her head to the side and smiled. "I can think of a few ways we can make up for lost time."

Shaw raised her eyebrows. "I'm listening."

Root leaned in close, her lips practically on Shaw's ear. "I'm pretty sure there's some spare zip ties lying around in the bedroom." She spoke in a low, teasing voice, and when she finally saw Shaw's expression she knew it had worked.

Root took Shaw's hand and and guided her to the bedroom. "Now," she said as they entered the bedroom, "before we do this, I-"  
"Oh shut up," said Shaw, shoving Root onto the bed and kicking the door shut. "You went and got yourself killed," she continued, grabbing the zip ties from the bed stand. "So we're doing this my way." Root replied with a smile; she was in for a fun night.


	3. Chapter 3

Root woke roughly an hour before Shaw. Shaw, she realised, must have been exhausted from the fight against Samaritan. Seeing how tired Shaw was made Root start to feel guilty for all the sleep she'd gotten over the past few days. She wished she could have been out there fighting as well instead of stuck in this safe house, but she also knew there was no point dwelling on that. The fight was over, and Shaw was safe now. That was all that mattered.

As Root lay there watching Shaw sleep, she noticed how peaceful Shaw looked now that she was sleeping. It must have been the first time in months that she'd been able to rest without fear of Samaritan. Root didn't even want to consider how little rest Shaw must have gotten during her torture. She realised now that she'd had to fake her death so quickly after Shaw's return that they'd never properly had the chance to discuss it.

Things were different now, though. Samaritan was gone, The Machine was free, and they were safe. Sure, they'd still get numbers, but at least now they'd have some more time. Time to talk about everything that's happened; time to be together; maybe even time for a proper relationship, if that was what Shaw wanted.

The Machine began to chatter in Root's ear, interrupting her train of thoughts. "Really?" She asked, grabbing a notepad from the counter beside her so she could scribble down the new number. "Can't I just have at least one day with her?" The Machine's lack of response gave her the answer. Clearly they wouldn't be having as much free time as she'd hoped.

Grumbling was followed by shuffling and a second later Shaw had rolled over to face Root. "What time is it?" She groaned.

"Just coming up to nine," replied Root as Shaw pushed herself upright so they were now sitting next to each other.

"That's late," said Shaw, resting her head on Root's shoulder. "You should have woken me earlier."

Root smiled. "You needed the rest. Besides, last night left us both pretty worn out."

"I guess it did," replied Shaw, wrapping her arms around Root. She glanced down and noticed the notebook still in Root's hand. "New number?".

Root returned the pad to the counter. "Yeah," she answered. "But we don't need to worry about it right now." Root began planting kisses on Shaw's neck, to which she let out a small moan of appreciation.

"As much as I'd like to stay here with you and continue this," said Shaw, causing Root to stop abruptly, "we can't ignore the numbers."

"I know," replied Root, sitting up again. She pushed a few stray strands of hair behind Shaw's ear. "We don't have to go right now." Shaw rolled her eyes, but kissed her anyway.

They stayed in bed for at least another hour. Root's arms were wrapped around Shaw, holding her from behind. "This is nice," she said, nuzzling the back of Shaw's neck. "I could get used to this."

Shaw sighed, and rolled herself over to face Root. Root could see she was troubled and began to worry she'd spoken too soon.

Shaw seemed distant as she spoke. "Root, I really want to do this for real, but to be honest I'm still not… right. Samaritan got in my head and messed me up pretty bad. I don't want to start something if I'm still a danger. It wouldn't be fair."

Root frowned. "I thought, after I died, you'd got passed that."

"I did, mostly." Shaw sighed, like she was struggling to put the issue into words. "Look, I know this isn't a simulation and for the most part I've been fine. It's just…"

Shaw trailed off, and Root gave a comforting smile. "What is it sweetie? If you explain it to me I can help you."

Shaw began to explain, but she avoided eye contact as she spoke. "Sometimes, at night, I see the images they put in my brain and just for a moment it's like I'm being controlled again." Shaw paused for a moment and finally looked at Root. "So far it's been fine because I've been alone, but if we keep doing this I don't know if I might hurt you." Shaw's voice was trembling as she finished speaking and Root hated seeing her so afraid of herself and what she might do.

Root took Shaw's hand in her own and gave a reassuring squeeze. "I know you won't," she said as confidently as she could.

Shaw shook her head. "You don't know that. How can you be so sure?"

"You told me yourself," replied Root flatly. "Seven thousand simulations and in every single one you killed yourself instead of me. That's how I know."

Shaw seemed to consider for a moment. Root could see she was getting through to her, but it was also clear she still wasn't entirely convinced. "Sameen," she said, drawing Shaw's attention back to her. "I've loved you for a long time now and if you didn't want to be together I'd respect that. But you've just told me that you do and I've nearly lost you twice now so I'm not gonna let this go." Root's voice became pleading. "Please don't throw away what we have over this fear."

Shaw's expression softened at the change in tone. She sighed, shaking her head as she spoke. "Alright Root. We can try to make this work, but if I kill you in your sleep that's on you."

That small bit of sarcasm was enough of a reminder of the old Shaw, the Shaw who hadn't been tortured and broken by Samaritan, to make Root smile.

Shaw's lips twitched upwards in a smile of her own. "So," she said, propping herself up with her elbow, "Now we've decided to do this properly, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I don't know what you mean," replied Root causally, though her smile faded a little.

"Oh cut the crap Root. I've known you long enough, cared for you long enough, to know when you're upset. What is it?" Shaw's voice was sharp, but she was understandably frustrated with Root's secrecy and Root knew she meant well.

Root sighed, deliberately looking away from Shaw as she spoke. "It's nothing, really. Certainly nothing as bad as what you've been through."

"If it's nothing, then why do you keep looking at me like I could disappear any second." Shaw had always been good at reading her, but Root hadn't realised she was being that obvious.

"It's silly really," she replied, shaking her head. "But I thought that when you found out that I'd lied to you, you'd hate me for it."

Shaw drew back in surprise and even let out a small laugh. "That's crazy. Root, when I thought you were dead I was angry, but not at you. I was angry because losing you hurt, and I wanted the world to know it. Feelings aren't really my thing, but when I'm with you I can't help it." Shaw leaned closer, brushing her fingers softly against Root's cheek. "You make me feel things. It's frustrating and it's painful, but it's so much better than feeling nothing."

Root pushed Shaw's hand away, turning away shamefully. "All that pain, that was my fault. That anger should be directed at me."

Shaw tilted Root's chin so she was looking at her again. "No it shouldn't. I know you would never have faked your death unless you felt that you had to. At the end of the day it was Samaritan who forced you into hiding. They still shot you, Root." Shaw traced a finger along the scar left by the sniper bullet as she spoke. "I don't blame you at all, I'm just relieved you're alive."

Root smiled, realising that maybe she had been worrying about nothing after all. Shaw returned the smile, cupping the back of Root's head as she drew her in for a kiss. Root ran her hands over Shaw's body as they kissed, feeling the bumps of various scars as she did so. She then tugged Shaw on top of her, who grinned as she straddled Root, pinning her to the bed. Root moaned from pleasure as Shaw kissed and nibbled her neck and she trembled slightly in anticipation as those kisses moved agonisingly slowly down her body.

She was furious when the Machine interrupted her. Hearing the voice in her head made her jolt suddenly with surprise, prompting Shaw to stop what she'd been doing. "Seriously?" asked Shaw, reading Root's expression. "You should tell the Machine her timing sucks."

"Our number just went urgent," replied Root, swinging her legs out of the bed. "Looks like that's the only sucking we're gonna be getting today." Shaw punched her lightly in the arm for that comment as the pair began to get dressed. It was time for them to get back to work.


	4. Chapter 4

Root tied the straps of the apron around her waist. As it turned out, the Machine's 'number' was a set of coordinates for a cafe so Root had gone undercover as a waitress so she could check it out. She surveyed the area but there was no sign of any danger or suspicious activity, just people enjoying themselves.

She spotted Shaw seated at one of the tables, scanning the other tables with a blank expression. Root smiled as Shaw scowled at every waitress that approached her, sending them scuttling away. Even after everything that had happened, she hadn't changed a bit.

Root strode over to Shaw, brandishing a broad smile. "Scaring away the competition I see," she commented, taking a notebook out of her apron pocket as if she was taking an order. Shaw ignored the comment but replied. "I've not seen anything."

"Me neither. The only chatter among the waitresses at the moment is over who has to deal with you." Shaw rolled her eyes but she did crack a small smile.

After a moment Shaw looked away from the other tables and turned to Root. "Are you sure the Machine got this one right." Root's brows creased but Shaw continued. "I mean, first she sends us coordinates instead of a number and the she tells us it's urgent but so far nothing's happened. Maybe she's glitching after the reboot."

Root cocked her head to the side. "She appreciates your concern, but she's fine Sameen. Trust her."

Shaw sighed; she didn't seem entirely convinced. "Fine," she replied. "But if we're gonna be stuck here for a while I might as well have something to eat."

"And what would you like then, Miss?" asked Root, grinning as Shaw scowled at her.

"I'll have the pancake stack, extra sauce."

"Hmm, that's a lot of calories. You sure you don't want something healthier?"

"Well you see someone made me skip breakfast this morning," replied Shaw as she shot Root a deadly glare. "And my trigger finger gets real itchy on an empty stomach."

"I guess you'll also be needing the extra energy for tonight," said Root with a wink, leaving Shaw fuming as she headed back to the kitchen. She was definitely going to pay for that comment later.

Shaw was about halfway through her pancakes when she called in. "Son of a bitch," she said into Root's earpiece. "You're never gonna believe who just showed up." Root did struggle to believe it when she looked out to see Harold and Grace sitting down at one of the tables not too far from Shaw. That at least explained why the Machine hadn't bothered giving them a number.

"I thought they were in Italy," commented Root, not thinking too much about it.

"You knew Finch was alive?"

"You didn't?"

An irritated Shaw replied. "I saw a missile hit a building and then everyone disappeared. Excuse me for thinking they hadn't survived."

"Clearly," replied Root, rubbing her head, "This is a discussion we need to have later. For now, let's try to stay on mission."

With a bit of persuasion, Shaw agreed to drop the subject until later. Root was somewhat relieved; at least she wouldn't have to tell Shaw about John until then. She knew Shaw wouldn't react much to the news, but that wasn't what bothered her. Root was well aware that Shaw cared more about them than she'd like to admit and knowing about that made her worry. She hated seeing Shaw hurt.

Root pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind as she strode over to Finch's table, once again brandishing a broad smile. This, at least, was going to be fun. "Are you two ready to order?" She asked, approaching from behind. Finch froze at the sound of her voice and his eyes widened as she walked round into his line of sight. The colour drained from his face as he realised that she was who he thought she was.

"Are you alright, sir?" Asked Root, frowning in an attempt to seem genuinely concerned. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Shaw practically snorted out a laugh through her earpiece, prompting Root to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing as well.

Finch followed her eyes as she glanced over at Shaw, spotting her now for the first time himself. He turned back to Root, and he must have realised why they were here because he did his best to compose himself as he replied. "I'm fine, you just reminded me of a friend who passed away recently."

"Well I can give you a minute if you need it," she said, leaving the table before Finch could object.

Root tossed the apron she'd been wearing into a nearby bin; she wouldn't be needing that cover anymore. She sat down opposite Shaw who'd already returned to her food. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

Root cocked her head to the side and smiled. "A girl's got to have a bit of fun while she's working."

Shaw shook her head, then slid her plate across the table, a few pancakes still leftover. When Root raised her eyebrows at the gesture, Shaw let out a frustrated sigh. "You haven't eaten anything either, Root."

"Careful Shaw, this might damage your reputation as the uncaring sociopath."

Shaw shot her a glare. "Just shut up and eat the damn pancakes before I change my mind."

Shaw kept an eye on Finch and Grace while Root began eating. She was hungrier than she'd realised. "So what do we do now?" asked Shaw. "There's not exactly much going on."

"Just treat it like another number," replied Root between mouthfuls. "We can watch from here and get involved if anything happens. In the meantime, we might as well enjoy ourselves."

Root ended up watching Shaw more than their surroundings. It had been so long since they'd last done something like this; just the two of them on a mission, no looming threat from Samaritan. She'd almost forgotten how much they both enjoyed this, although it was clear that Shaw was beginning to get bored and slightly agitated by the lack of gunfire.

Root reached across the table and took Shaw's hand in her own. Shaw glanced down, but she didn't flinch or retract her hand. Instead, she began lacing her finger's in between Root's, a hint of a smile appearing as she did so. Root's own smile widened as she continued to gaze idly at Shaw.

"This is nice," said Root, drawing Shaw's attention to her. "Almost like a date."

"A date?" Shaw rolled her eyes. "This is not what I'd consider a date."

"Why not? I mean, we're in a cafe, sharing a meal, and you might even get to shoot some people soon."

Shaw pursed her lips. "I guess that is the equivalent of a date for us."

When Shaw looked away again, she tensed suddenly and all signs of a smile vanished. Root held back a sigh as Shaw pulled her hand away. They never could just have a moment without being interrupted. "Heads up," said Shaw, nodding in the direction behind Root. "We've got company."

Root turned to see about a dozen or so men surrounding the edges of the seating. They all wore similar black suits, wearing identical earpieces and carrying government issue firearms. More importantly, they were all heading towards Finch and Grace.

"Looks like government operatives," commented Root, but Shaw was shaking her head, her eyes fixated on one of the men in particular.

"That's not government," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. "That's Samaritan."

Root did her best to ignore the rising sense of dread. "Samaritan's gone," she said, hoping the certainty of her definitive tone would somehow make her words reality.

Shaw held her head in her hands, almost like she couldn't believe it herself. "That man, on the left, he worked at the facility where they held me."

Root looked over at the man Shaw was describing. He was young, about average height, with pretty standard looks. There was nothing particular distinguishable. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Maybe he just looks like him."

Shaw looked Root directly in the eye as she replied. "Root, I killed that man hundreds of times during the simulations. I'm sure."

Root didn't need any more convincing, but she did wonder why Samaritan operatives would be here. Now the AI was gone, none of them posed a threat anymore. Either they were carrying out old orders or… or Samaritan was back online. Root shuddered at the thought. If Samaritan was back then they were all in danger. She might have even put Shaw in more danger by coming back.

Shaw didn't seem as bothered by this, though. She grabbed her bag from the floor, careful to keep the rifle hidden inside until they were closer to Finch. If they started shooting now he'd definitely be dead by the time they reached him. Root stood with Shaw and they slowly made their way towards Finch's table.

He saw them coming, and it only took him a brief second to figure out why. Root could see the fear in Finch's eyes, but it wasn't for him. No, he was worried about Grace.

"Hate to interrupt your meal," said Root as they reached the table. "But in a second I'm going to need you to get up and move slowly towards the building behind us."

Grace looked up at them in shock. "Who are you?"

Finch replied before Root could. "Miss Groves and Miss Shaw are both old associates of mine. You can trust them."

Out of the corner of her eye, Root saw one of the operatives reaching for his gun. A second later, both of Root's guns were in her hands. Two shots after that, the man was on the floor and the cafe was in chaos.

Screams filled the air as people fled the gunshots. Root and Shaw made use of the disruption, guiding Finch and Grace through the panicked crowd. As long as they blended in with everyone else, the agents couldn't risk taking any shots. The crowd quickly dispersed though, forcing them to take cover behind a cluster of overturned tables.

Shaw provided cover fire whilst Root listened to The Machine's instructions. The warning almost came too late. She threw herself at Shaw, colliding into her so they both went crashing into the ground. The bullet that would have killed Shaw ripped through her shoulder as they fell but she blocked out the pain.

Root rolled out of the way as Shaw returned fire, taking out the gunman. They both lay there on the ground for a moment, taking a second to recover. Shaw turned to Root. "Are you hit?"

"No," she lied, making sure she faced Shaw so the wound wasn't visible. She sat up to see Finch and Grace moving towards them.

"Are you alright?" asked Finch.

"We're fine, Harry," replied Root, although she noticed Shaw was frowning sceptically at her. She turned back to Shaw as she reloaded her guns. "Take Grace to the car and get to the safe house."

Shaw looked at her in bewilderment. "What about you?"

"I'll take Harold with me and we'll meet you later. Trust me."

Shaw gave a slow nod and consented to go. She helped Grace up and Root drew the fire from the few remaining operatives as they sprinted to the car. Pretty soon all of the men were down, but the Machine told Root more were on the way.

They needed to move, but Root needed to rest. She slid down against one of the tables, wincing slightly at the pain in her shoulder. "You're hurt," said Finch, noticing the pain she was in. "Miss Shaw could have helped you."

"She needed to go,"replied Root. "And so do we." Finch helped her up, then she led him down the street, following the Machine's instructions. They weren't finished yet.


	5. Chapter 5

Root stood in the darkness of what was now an abandoned store. Her shoulder ached, but she'd managed to at least bandage it up with Finch's help. The single bulb that hung from the ceiling illuminated the room dimly, showing the face of the man she now had tied to a chair. She hadn't been able to find any zip ties, but some rope had been good enough.

The man was the Samaritan operative that Shaw had recognised; Root and Finch had run into him during their escape. He had worked at the facility where they'd held Shaw, which meant he was at least somewhat involved in her torture. To Root, that meant he deserved everything she was about to do.

"Soon as you won't answer any of my other questions," she said, pacing up and down. "I'll ask you this instead. Do you remember Sameen Shaw?" The man, who'd maintained his silence up till now, replied with a cruel smile. "Of course I remember that bitch."

The man cried out in pain as Root shot out his kneecap. "You should really watch your language when you talk about Shaw in front of me, my finger tends to slip otherwise." She got close to the man, anger flashing in her eyes as she continued. "The next one," she said, pushing her gun into the wound, making the man crease up in pain. "Goes in your other kneecap. The third goes in your head."

"That's quite enough, Ms Groves." Finch emerged from the corner of the room, his face serious. "This is not how we operate."

Root huffed. "No Harold," she said, turning to face him. "This is not how you operate. Things are different for me and Shaw. We hurt the people who hurt us."

"Either way, I don't believe Miss Shaw would support this."

"Really?" Root couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. "Do you remember Jeff, Harold? The number who started working for Samaritan."

Finch gave her a quizzical look. "I do, but I don't see the relevance-"

"He shot me Harry. Shaw killed him for it. We get revenge for each other." Root spoke bluntly; there was no point in coating this nicely. Plus, they were pushed for time and she needed Finch to either understand or get out of her way.

They may have continued back and forth like that if the man didn't start laughing to himself in the chair. Root turned to him sharply, the renewed anger in her eyes promising death. "How badly did we break her?" Asked the man now that he had Root's attention. "To have gotten you like this."

Root fought the urge to blow his other kneecap off right there and then. Instead she approached him with a deadly smile. "How arrogant of you to believe you could break Shaw." Root waved her gun in the air as she spoke. "She broke out of your facility and helped take down Samaritan. Does that sound like a broken woman to you?"

"I watched the simulations," replied the man. "We saw everything she did, Root." The grin that appeared on the man's face made Root's stomach turn in disgust. "I hope she kills you in your sleep." Root had heard enough. She shot the man's other knee and a second later had her gun pressed against his head. Finch made a move to stop her, but the glare she shot at him made him think twice.

"Samaritan is gone," she said, pushing hard against the man's forehead. "So why are you still coming after us?"

"Samaritan may be offline," replied the man through gritted teeth. "But there are ways of bringing it back."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" Asked Root.

The man stayed silent, but the Machine didn't. It told Root that the other Samaritan operatives had found them and that they needed to leave. "Looks like out time's up," said Root. She gave the man a final opportunity to tell her the truth, then leant down and spoke in a low voice. "You deserve a slow and painful death, but I'm getting payback for Shaw so I need to make sure you're dead. Consider yourself lucky."

Root took a few steps back, then shot him through the head. His face froze in an expression of fear and horror as his body went limp in the chair. Root left the body there, grabbing Finch's arm and guiding him to their escape route.

—

Shaw dialled the phone, only to receive no response once again. It had been hours. Root hadn't bothered to contact her once and she never picked up her phone. Shaw glared at the monitors; the Machine hadn't been very helpful either.

Grace was seated on the sofa, a worried expression on her face. Shaw couldn't stand social interaction at the best of times, but dealing with Grace had been particularly difficult. She hadn't recognised Root at first but after the gunfight she had no trouble remembering them both. She, quite rightly, had questions, none of which Shaw felt it was her place to answer. As a result, they'd spent most of the time sitting in silence, with Shaw checking her phone constantly for any sign from Root.

Shaw nearly let out a sigh of relief when there was finally a knock at the door. She motioned for Grace to move into another room, drawing her gun just in case. She honestly didn't know how to react when she opened the door to find Fusco standing there, Bear sitting by his side.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Asked Shaw, putting her gun away.

Fusco put his away too. "I could ask you the same question," he replied. "I've had Scooby Doo here for over a day."

Shaw glanced down at Bear, who let out a small whine. "It's complicated," she said, letting Fusco enter.

Fusco froze when he noticed Grace. "Isn't that Finch's fiance?" he asked Shaw quietly.

"I told you it's complicated," she replied through her teeth.

Grace looked at them both in disbelief. "You're the detective, from when I was kidnapped," she said, recognising Fusco as well. "Please tell me what's going on."

"Honestly," he replied, "I probably know even less than you. I was just told to come here."

Grace turned to Shaw. "Please just tell me where that other woman took Harold."

Shaw rubbed her head. "Look, I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. She won't pick up her phone and she didn't exactly tell me the plan in advance." Grace only looked more worried as she said that, so she thought it would be best to add something to give her some peace of mind. "Listen, Harold is safe with her. She's already taken a bullet for him once." Shaw had no idea if that had actually helped at all, but she honestly didn't know what else to say.

It was Fusco now who looked at her quizzically, and Shaw suddenly realised she still hadn't told him about Root yet. "Root's alive," she said with a small hint of a smile. "I found her."

"Well it's about time," replied Fusco. "I was beginning to worry something had happened." He realised his mistake almost immediately, panic flashing in his eyes.

Shaw shot him a deadly glare. "You better explain yourself, Lionel."

"Look, don't get mad at me." He swallowed hard. "I went to the hospital like I said, but she was there, recovering. She asked me to help her disappear."

Shaw did her best to hold back her anger. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You think I didn't want to?" Fusco shook his head. "She threatened to kill herself if I didn't help, told me you'd wind up dead if I told you."

Shaw sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, I'm gonna kill her."

"That would be a bit counterproductive, wouldn't it, honey?" Root walked into the safe house, Finch trailing close behind. He went straight over to Grace, who seemed relieved but still afraid. "Good to see you kept your bad timing," commented Shaw, drawing a smile from Root. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Taking care of business," replied Root, running a hand over Shaw's shoulder.

"That's vague and you know it."

Root ignored her comment, changing the subject. "Do you mind taking a look at Harold? I'm pretty sure he got grazed by a bullet during our escape."

"Or I could look at you," replied Shaw, fixing a Root with a stare. "Because I know you took one to the shoulder, and from the way you're standing I'd say you took one in the side as well."

"You know me so well," said Root, taking the seat Shaw gestured to.

Shaw began looking at the bullet wound in Root's shoulder which had been badly bandaged up. "So," she said quietly, "You ready to tell me what you've been doing all day and why you haven't been answering my calls."

"I'm sorry for not answering, Shaw. But as I said, I was busy taking care of some things." Root smiled, but it still wasn't good enough for Shaw.

"What things?" She hissed.

Root tilted her head. "It's nothing."

"Only if you consider torturing and killing a man nothing, Miss Groves," said Finch, walking over to them. Shaw raised her eyebrows.

"He makes it sound so much worse than it is," said Root, but she didn't elaborate. Shaw could see she wasn't comfortable saying anymore, well, at least while they still had company. Shaw paused her work on Root's shoulder and turned to Finch. "You know Grace has been asking me a lot of questions, Finch. Maybe you should answer some of them in another room." He got the hint, taking Grace into the next room.

"I'll give you two a minute," said Fusco, taking Bear as he headed towards the others.

"Thanks Lionel," replied Root over her shoulder. "For everything."

"Yeah no problem," he said. "Just glad to see you two lunatics happy again."

Root smiled softly at Shaw, who rolled her eyes back at her. Shaw moved to the wound in Root's side as Fusco left.

"So who'd you kill, Root?" Asked Shaw, though she still didn't get an immediate response. "Look I'm not judging you, I've killed a decent number in my time. But I did think you'd moved on from the whole murder business."

Root huffed. "It was the Samaritan operative, the one you pointed out. I thought he deserved payback after what they did to you."

Shaw paused. "Oh, that's unexpected, but okay. I don't know why you were so reluctant to mention it before, though. As far as I'm concerned that's a good thing."

Root glanced towards the other room. "Not everyone is as keen on my methods."

Shaw followed her eyes. "Finch? Who gives a crap what he thinks?"

"I do, Sameen."

Shaw finished her work on Root's wound and she sat back, looking Root in the eyes as she spoke. "Seriously, you've got to stop searching for Finch's approval. I know he means a lot to you but… but the truth is if it was Grace who was hurt, all those rules and morals he has, they'd be gone. He'd do the same, if not worse, than what you did."

Root smiled lovingly at Shaw, taking Shaw's hands in her own. "You know for a sociopath you're getting pretty good at comforting speeches."

"Yeah well this crazy psycho wouldn't leave me alone so now I've got all these emotions to deal with," replied Shaw, cracking a smile of her own. She looked over at the closed door connecting to the room where the others were. "Maybe it's time to let them back in so we can figure out what to do next."

Root cupped her cheek gently and planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Maybe they can wait a little longer," she said, pulling Shaw into an embrace and burying her face in Shaw's neck. Shaw held Root tight, feeling in that moment as if nothing else mattered, that maybe as long as she had Root, she might finally get a shot at happiness.


	6. Chapter 6

Shaw stood amongst the rubble of the subway along with the others. Other than the hole they'd blasted in the wall, nothing had changed. It was like they'd never left. But, she thought, looking around, everything had changed and things would never return to how they were before.

Shaw watched Root's eyes drift towards her old room which had also been left unchanged. If she asked why they hadn't done anything with it, Shaw would probably tell her it was because they didn't have time, but the truth is she hadn't wanted to touch it. It would have felt wrong to move any of Root's stuff after what happened.

Shaw turned her attention back to Root, dragging herself out of the past and back to the present. "So," she said, "Are you going to tell us why we're here or am I gonna have to start guessing?"

Root gave a sly smile. "I could tell you, but I'm starting to think having you guess might be more fun."

"And I'm starting to think kicking your ass might be more fun."

"That would be fun," replied Root, "but now's not really the time."

Root reached into her pocket, taking out a memory stick smeared with dried blood. "I found this on our friend from Samaritan," she explained. "I have no idea what's on it, but I reckon it will at least tell us something about their plans."

Shaw nodded. "You want to use the faraday cage to find out what their planning."

"Exactly," replied Root with a smile.

Finch frowned at them both. "How do you know, Miss Groves, that the USB contains any relevant information at all?"

"I don't," replied Root casually, "but there's no harm in finding out."

"So this whole thing could be a complete waste of time," added Fusco. "You know I've got other things to be doing, right?"

"I'm sure we've all got things we'd rather be doing," said Root, winking at Shaw. So much for now's not the time. Shaw responded by rolling her eyes, drawing a gleeful smile from Root.

Root took Finch and Grace with her to the faraday cage to test her theory, leaving Shaw alone with Fusco. "You know," he muttered, "just for once it would be nice to get a straight answer out of her."

"You think dealing with her on the occasional mission is bad," replied Shaw. "I've gotta deal with this kinda crap every single day now."

Fusco frowned. "I thought you liked her."

Shaw huffed. "Just because I like Root doesn't mean she can't be a pain in the ass, especially when it comes to telling me what the hell is going on."

"You two are a crazy pair, you know that right?"

Shaw laughed. "It's taken you how long to figure that out? I thought you were a detective."

"And I thought you didn't have a sense of humour."

"I also have a gun," replied Shaw with a glare. "So don't test me."

Fusco shook his head, smiling. Bored, Shaw left him there, grinning to himself, as she walked further into the subway.

Shaw found herself staring at the hole in the wall where the phone was. The phone didn't ring, and Shaw wondered if it would ever ring again now that Root was back. She noticed something else though, a cable attached to the phone. She followed the cable with her eyes, tracing its length to a tape recorder set up on a desk. Curious, Shaw walked up to the desk and hit play.

"If you can hear this, then the only thing left of me is the sound of my voice." Shaw was taken aback to hear Root's voice, but she pushed past the initial shock and continued listening to the tape. As it continued, Shaw came to realise that it was the Machine narrating and not Root, although it was still so difficult to tell the difference.

Shaw was so caught up in the tape that she didn't hear Root approaching. In fact, she only noticed her presence when her arm brushed past from behind and she turned off the tape. "That's not meant for us," said Root softly, wrapping her arms around Shaw's waist and resting her chin on Shaw's shoulder. Shaw leant into Root's embrace. "Why can't we listen to it?"

"Well for starters, you already know most of the story. It was intended as more of a failsafe really, in case none of us made it out alive."

Shaw thought about it for a moment. "Well I'd still like to hear it. I'd love to know everyone's dirty little secrets."

Root turned Shaw around, taking her hands in her own. "Trust me," she said in a low voice, "there are some things you'd rather not know."

Shaw gave a half smile. "Are you keeping secrets from me now, Root?"

"You know everything about me," she replied with a nervous laugh. "You know what I was like before the Machine, how I've changed."

"Yeah, but what about what happened during the time I was taken by Samaritan?"

Root's eyes darkened and she looked away from Shaw. "Listen, that was a pretty dark time for me. I'd rather not talk about it."

Seeing the guilt and pain appear in Root's eyes, Shaw couldn't help but feel bad. She didn't want to upset Root any further, so she decided to change the subject. "So what did the simulations say?"

The distraction worked, Root looked up as she replied. "I don't know, I left it running with Harold. We can go take a look."

Relieved to see Root back to her normal self, Shaw agreed.

Finch stood watching the laptop in the faraday cage whilst Grace and Fusco sat nearby in silence. Shaw entered with Root, who immediately went over to Finch to check the simulation. "How's our little test run going?" she asked.

"It's not quite finished," replied Finch, "but you can take a look for yourself."

Root studied the laptop which Shaw assumed, although she couldn't see it, was spewing out data. "It's a virus," concluded Root as she continued to watch whatever was on the screen. "Looks like it's designed to infect the Machine with Samaritan. Clever."

"It's not quite as clever as it seems," said Finch, drawing Root's attention to him. "The virus, is local. It has to inserted directly into the Machine. That's why they came after Grace and I, they wanted a location."

Root's lips stretched into a smile. "That's great news," she said, laughing from relief. When Shaw, and all the others, frowned at her, she decided to elaborate. "When the Machine came back online, she inserted herself… everywhere. You can't target her location because she doesn't have one."

Shaw pursed her lips. "Job done," she said with a hint of a smile. "No more Samaritan."

"I wish it were that simple, Miss Shaw," replied Finch. "But Samaritan's agents will continue to come after us regardless of what we know about the threat."

"Good," said Shaw bluntly, causing Finch to crease his brows further. "Saves me the trouble of hunting them down one by one."

"Miss Shaw, we save lives. We are not in the business of taking them."

Shaw shook her head angrily. "No. These people tortured me, they almost killed Root, and although no one's told me, I'm pretty sure they actually did kill Reese. They don't get to live."

Her words silenced Finch. Grace just looked utterly confused by the whole situation, but Fusco stared glumly; no doubt the reality of Reese's death had dawned on him at some point as well. Root walked over to Shaw and gently placed a hand on her arm. "It's alright Sameen," she said quietly, her eyes full of sadness and promise. "We'll get them, together." Shaw nodded silently in acknowledgement, and Root gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

Root remained next to Shaw, but turned around to face the others as she spoke. "Look, I think what Shaw is trying to say, is that we can't just let Samaritan's operatives run around. Who knows who they could end up hurting?"

Finch sighed. "It doesn't matter what you want to do. I've decided I don't want a part in this life anymore. I'd rather you didn't kill anyone, but what you do now is up to you."

"What about the Machine?" asked Root. "She's your child, Harold."

"I believe the Machine has proven its independence on multiple occasions, Miss Groves. Besides, you can provide the Machine with better care than I ever could."

Root replied with a soft smile before going over to Finch and hugging him. "I'm going to miss you Harold. Thank you for everything you've done."

"Thank you too, Root," he replied. "You've given everything to this."

"I've gotten everything out of this," she said with a small laugh, stealing a glance at Shaw.

Finch turned to Fusco next. "Detective," he said.

"Glasses."

"You've come a long way from when we first met, detective, and I'm sure John would be proud of the man you've become."

"He'd be proud of you too," replied Fusco with a nod. "And I'm sure he'd want you to take this break." They both smiled and shook hands as a way of saying goodbye.

Finally, Finch turned to Shaw. "Miss Shaw," he began, a sad expression on his face. "I'll never truly understand what you went through for us, but please know I will forever be grateful for your sacrifice that day."

Shaw gave a small nod of acceptance in response.

"And," continued Finch before Shaw could say anything. "Although things work differently for you, I really do hope you're able to find some kind of happiness after all this."

Shaw looked over at Root, the woman she'd so nearly lost, then turned back to Finch. "You know what Harold," she said with something that resembled a smile, "that might actually be possible."

Finch smiled and nodded his reply; there was nothing more to be said. He went back over to Grace who honestly just looked relieved to be leaving. Shaw wasn't exactly surprised, this was a pretty messed up life after all. Root offered to take them wherever it was they were going, but Finch insisted he would be fine so the pair left on their own.

Root saw them off, and while Shaw expected her to be upset, she returned with a smile on her face. "You know," she said, "now that we're no longer hiding from the all-seeing Samaritan, I thought we could move out of the safehouse and go somewhere a bit nicer. My old apartment, perhaps?"

Shaw shook her head in disbelief. "Are you asking me to move in with you, Root?"

"What would you say if I was?"

"I think you already know the answer."

Root gave a satisfied smile. "Come on, Lionel," said Root, turning to the detective. "I need some help moving stuff from here to the apartment."

"You brought me here to help you move?" he complained. "You know I've got a pretty important day job, right?"

"One made much easier by the work we do. You wouldn't want that to stop because we're busy moving, now would you?" replied Root with a pout.

"Yeah hurry up, Fusco, and help us move" added Shaw with a laugh, clapping Fusco on the shoulder. "We've got work to do after this."


	7. Chapter 7

Root struggled to sleep that night. She'd become so used to coping with only a few hours sleep that all of this opportunity for rest that she now had felt like too much. Ideally, she would have passed the night doing stuff with Shaw, but she'd practically passed out on the bed the moment they'd got in. Instead she'd just lay awake, a soft smile on her face as she watched Shaw sleep.

The Machine occasionally chattered in Root's ear throughout the night, but she avoided responding through fear of unintentionally waking Shaw. She could only imagine Shaw's anger if her sleep was to be disturbed. The one-way nature of her communication with the Machine meant conversation was severely limited and Root was beginning to grow bored and restless as a result.

She was about to get up when Shaw started tossing around beside her. Her arms and legs jerked and spasmed like she was having some kind of fit. She was mumbling something to herself, but Root couldn't make out any of the words she was saying. She could just see that Shaw was distressed, which gave her a small sense of panic because she had no idea what to do to comfort her.

At the very least Root had a good idea of what was going on. Shaw had warned her about her troubles at night, but Root just hadn't expected them to be so… disturbing. She could see Shaw was in pain, and every part of her desperately wanted to take that pain away, she just didn't know how.

Root reached over and placed her hand gently on Shaw's arm in an attempt to soothe her. It didn't do much, but Root could feel now just how much Shaw was trembling as she convulsed. Root couldn't bear to watch Shaw suffer this much in her sleep, so she shuffled closer to her and rolled her over so they were facing each other.

Root shook Shaw and called her name to try and wake her up. It didn't appear to be working at first, but then Shaw's eyes shot open, the sudden motion leaving Root a little startled. Shaw stared directly at Root but her eyes were blank and emotionless. There didn't seem to be any level of recognition in her expression.

"Shaw?" said Root, her voice wavering as she spoke. "It's me, Root."

Shaw tilted her head to the side and studied her, then after a moment recognition flashed in her eyes. Root's face lit up as she was overcome with happiness at knowing she hadn't completely lost Shaw. But that joy quickly turned to concern as Shaw's recognition turned into an angry frown, and a moment later her hand was clasped around Root's throat.

Root didn't struggle against Shaw's grasp; she knew it wouldn't make any difference. She also feared that if she did resist, things could rapidly escalate into a conflict that could result in at least one of them getting hurt. She had to remind herself that right now it wasn't Shaw who was strangling her, that in this moment she didn't have any control. Shaw was in there somewhere, Root just had to get her out.

Root did her best to smile despite the grip that grew tighter around her neck. Instead of trying to pull Shaw's hand away, she reached out and cupped her cheek.

"I know you're in there," she croaked, gasping as Shaw tightened her grasp even more. "I'm not going to fight you, Sameen."

Root tried to say more, but the words caught in her throat and wouldn't come out. Her eyes began to water, but she kept her gaze firmly fixed on Shaw as she pleaded silently with her. Root could feel herself losing consciousness, but she fought to hold on as long as she could to give Shaw time to come back to reality.

At first she'd been so confident that Shaw would come to her senses, and although she still trusted Shaw, she couldn't stop a certain amount of fear from seeping through. It was that fear that may have saved her life, because the moment it appeared there was a change in Shaw's expression. Her eyes shifted down to her hand and horror spread across her face as she suddenly realised what she was doing.

Shaw immediately retracted her arm and clutched it tightly to her chest. Root crashed onto the mattress, coughing and gasping for air. She lay there for a moment as she gulped down much needed air and was able to steady her breathing. She ignored the persisting pain in her neck as she turned her attention to Shaw.

Shaw was frozen in shock, staring down in disbelief at her own hand.

"It's alright, sweetie," said Root in a raspy voice, laying a reassuring hand on Shaw's arm.

Shaw was shaking her head and avoiding making eye contact with Root. "No, it's not," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I didn't think I would hurt you… but I did."

"Felt more like foreplay to me," replied Root in an attempt to lighten the tone of the conversation. Of course that was difficult to do when the pain was so clearly evident in the marks around her neck and in the sound of her voice. Shaw certainly didn't buy it.

"This isn't a joke, Root. I had no control." Despite her blunt tone, Shaw sounded scared.

"See I don't think that's true," said Root, causing Shaw to raise her eyebrows quizzically. "If you wanted to kill me, _really _wanted to kill me, I would have been unconscious in seconds. But I wasn't." Shaw didn't appear to be in any way convinced by what she was saying, so Root continued. "I think, that when you have these episodes, there's a part of you that fights back. And I believe that if we work together on this then eventually you'll be able to stop them altogether, because you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"You know your persistent optimism can be really annoying sometimes."

"It works though," said Root with a smile.

"I guess..." replied Shaw with a reluctant smile of her own. "But I did still almost kill you."

"To be fair you have come closer in the past." Root attempted to laugh, but it was too painful. Shaw was quick to notice her flinch from the pain and she frowned with concern.

Shaw reached out and began to tenderly feel the area where she'd grasped Root's neck. Root remained still while Shaw examined her, though she did cringe a few times when Shaw touched an area that was particularly painful.

"I'll need to make sure there's no internal injuries," said Shaw once she was finished. "And you'll need to tell me if you experience any other symptoms."

Root rolled her eyes. "As much as I love your attentiveness, I'm sure we can deal with all that later. For now, I think we both need some time to recover."

Shaw still looked concerned about Root's injuries but she didn't put up a protest. She was probably too tired to argue. However, it became clear that the thought of going back to sleep and possibly reliving the events of the night all over again frightened her. She shifted around nervously, not wanting to go back to sleep but not wanting to reveal her fears to Root either.

"I can't do it," she eventually said, more to herself than to Root.

"I wasn't really sleeping anyway," said Root, reminding Shaw that she wasn't alone. "We haven't got any new numbers at the moment, so we might as well make the most of the time we've got alone together."

"I'm not really in the right mindset for sex right now, Root," responded Shaw.

"I didn't mean that," said Root quickly. "I'm not even sure I'd be able to anyway." She rubbed her neck as she spoke, wondering how long it was going to be sore for.

Root moved closer to Shaw so she could pull her into a tight embrace. "You can just lay here with me," she said, planting a kiss on Shaw's forehead and idly running a hand through her hair.

"I guess that wouldn't be so bad," replied Shaw with a grin as wrapped an arm around Root and leaned deeper into her embrace.


	8. Chapter 8

Shaw lay sprawled across the sofa, her head nestled in the comfort of Root's lap. Root ran her hands through Shaw's hair, idly stroking it in the same way she did with Bear when he wanted attention. Shaw enjoyed the peaceful moment and soon she found her thoughts wandering as she reflected on her recovery over the past few weeks.

Since almost killing Root that night, Shaw had begun to gradually recover. She'd found the first couple of nights particularly difficult as she had been too afraid to sleep for fear of hurting Root in the night again, but she'd also been too tired to do any of the things Root had wanted to do.

In the end, Shaw had found herself doing everything she could to delay going to bed each night, though she was eventually convinced to at least try to sleep by Root who was persistent in insisting that it was the only way she would begin to recover.

As much as Shaw hated to admit that Root was right, she was grateful for the support. She knew she could be a difficult person at times, especially when she was tired and frustrated, so Shaw wouldn't have blamed Root for getting annoyed at her. But Root had been nothing but patient with her, and it had made Shaw realise just how much she cared and understood.

Despite all of the support, Shaw still hadn't fully recovered, and if she was being honest she doubted she ever would. Thankfully she hadn't hurt Root again since the strangling incident, but she'd still had her fair share of difficult nights. Root had been there for her every time. Sometimes Root would talk to her, hold her, or even just lie with her in silence. She'd given Shaw whatever it was she'd needed at the time, and Shaw had to admit she'd grown to quite like Root's attentive care.

The numbers hadn't stopped coming, but they'd all been quite straightforward. Normally, Shaw would've been bored with the simplicity of the problems the Machine had sent them to deal with, but for once she found herself appreciating the slower pace. It had given her more time alone with Root, a luxury they'd struggled to afford back when Samaritan had been hunting them. A break had been long overdue, in any case.

Strangely, Samaritan hadn't resurfaced since the incident with Finch and Grace. At first, Shaw had been suspicious that they were planning something big, but as more time passed without any sign of Samaritan's agents, she'd began to wonder if maybe they were gone for good.

When she'd mentioned that idea to Root, she hadn't been so convinced. Root seemed certain that something was coming and saw the silence as a worrying sign that Samaritan's agents had gotten even better at avoiding the Machine's detection. Shaw knew she was probably right, but she liked the idea that maybe it really was all over.

"You alright?" asked Root, noticing that Shaw had drifted off into her thoughts.

"I'm fine," replied Shaw with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, she actually meant it. Any hint of concern was wiped from Root's face as she realised how genuine Shaw's reply was.

"There's clearly something on your mind, though," added Root, gently caressing Shaw's cheek.

Root clearly wanted to know what Shaw had been thinking about, but Shaw knew that if she brought it up it would only lead to a conversation she didn't want to have right now, and would most certainly kill the mood.

"I was just thinking… we should go out tonight," replied Shaw, raising her eyebrows up at Root.

"Like on a date? I didn't realise that was your kind of thing, Sameen."

"Why not? I like food, I like alcohol, and I suppose you're not so bad either."

Root shook her head and smiled at Shaw's comment. "I guess that's the closest I'm ever going to get to you saying that you love me."

"Take me out tonight and maybe we'll see," said Shaw, a reply that surprised herself just as much, if not more, than it did Root.

It hadn't been that long ago that Shaw had believed she was incapable of feeling anything for anyone and yet somehow here she was, ready to admit that she cared for Root on the deepest level possible. In some ways it made no sense. She was a sociopath, it should be impossible for her to care for someone else this much.

But in others… in many ways it was the only thing that made any sense at all. Maybe she'd just spent so long repressing these feelings that it had taken her torture and Root's death to finally put it all into perspective for her. Shaw couldn't tell exactly what it was that had made her realise she loved Root, but now that she had, she'd never been more certain of anything else in her life.

Root took a moment before she replied. She'd probably also needed a second to fully process the implications of what Shaw had said. Her eyes seemed to shimmer with joy as she realised that Shaw was being serious and that she wasn't just teasing. Her smile widened as well, and Shaw noticed how she appeared even more beautiful when she was happy.

"I like this new side of you, Sameen," said Root at last. "It's nice not being the only one flirting in this relationship."

Shaw rolled her eyes at the tease, just as she knew Root had wanted her too. Shaw chuckled quietly to herself, realising how childish they must've looked, not that it really bothered her that much.

They continued to tease each other back and forth for some time, flirting in a way that would have made an outsider believe they couldn't stand each other. At some point Shaw must have dozed off, because she found herself being woken up by Root a few hours later.

Shaw groaned as she sat up, freeing Root who'd been trapped underneath her while she slept.

"I was tempted to just let you sleep," she said, stretching out her legs which must have been pretty cramped from being in the same position for so long.

"Why didn't you?" asked Shaw, still barely awake.

"Well, for starters, I didn't want you to have a go at me," said Root, standing up and stretching out her arms. "Plus," she added, "the Machine booked us in somewhere nice. It would be rude of us not to show up."

"Right…" said Shaw sarcastically. "So it's got nothing to do with what might happen afterwards then?"

"That might have _something _to do with it," replied Root with a grin.

Root left and went into the bedroom to get ready and change into what she described as 'something nicer' before they went out. Shaw supposed she should do the same but she chose to stay behind for a few minutes, not exactly ready to leave the comfort of the sofa just yet.

By the time Shaw entered the bedroom, Root had already changed. She'd replaced her top and trousers with a blue, close-fitting dress; nice enough that it had Shaw raising her eyebrows when she came into the room. Root gave her a satisfied smirk when she noticed her reaction.

Shaw opted for a simpler black dress, though from the way Root was looking at her she could tell she approved. Shaw couldn't quite reach the zip at the back of her dress so Root came over to help her.

"You look good, sweetie," observed Root as she pulled up the zip. "Well, you always look good, but I've got to admit I like seeing you in a dress."

"You don't look so bad yourself," commented Shaw, turning around to face Root.

Root smiled at Shaw for a moment, then her eyes suddenly widened.

"I almost forgot," she began to explain as she walked back over to the wardrobe whilst Shaw frowned at her. "I've got something for you."

"A gift?" asked Shaw. "I didn't know we were doing that kind of thing."

"It's not really a gift," said Root, rummaging around in the wardrobe. "It's more a replacement, really."

She pulled a long coat out from the wardrobe, almost identical to the one Shaw had been wearing on that day at the stock exchange.

"It's kind of my fault you lost the last one," said Root sheepishly, handing Shaw the coat.

"Firstly," said Shaw, accepting the coat from Root as she handed it to her, "that wasn't in any way your fault. It was my decision. Secondly… thanks."

Shaw knew that she probably wouldn't wear the coat that night but she felt, at least for Root's sake, that she should try it on. Shaw felt slightly awkward with the ritual of trying it on but she wanted to show Root her appreciation and this was the best way she could think of doing it. It was comfortable and fit quite well, but the coat itself wasn't anything special. What it represented though, now that was something special.

"When did you get this?" Shaw wondered out loud.

"It wasn't long after you were taken by Samaritan," answered Root, brushing her fingers down one of the sleeves. "I was still going through identities whilst I followed every lead I could find on where you might have been. I can't remember which one it was now," she added with a small laugh. "I saw it in a shop I was passing through and it reminded me of you. I thought I could give it you once I found you."

"How did you even know I was alive?" asked Shaw, curious.

"I didn't," admitted Root. "But at the time I couldn't let myself believe anything else. Everyone else had already given up. I couldn't do that."

Shaw could see that Root was doing her best to smile, but the pain of the memory must have been too bad as her lips trembled, barely twitching upwards. Shaw pulled Root into a tight embrace, unsure of how to properly comfort her. It seemed to work. Root held onto her, burying her face against her neck and shoulder.

Shaw didn't know what to say. Words couldn't possibly do justice to what she wanted to tell Root. Shaw thought that being tortured by Samaritan had been bad, and it was, but Root had tortured herself every day with guilt and grief, shouldering the blame for something that hadn't been her fault. Shaw just wanted her to know that she didn't need to feel guilty, but she knew that no matter what she said, it wouldn't take the guilt away.

So Shaw did the only thing she could. She held Root for as long as she needed, and was prepared to stay there all night if she had to. After everything that had happened, it was the least she could do. Shaw just hoped it was enough.

When Root did pull away, she immediately hid her face in an attempt to hide the fact that she'd been crying. Shaw had assumed that's what she'd been doing anyway, and even if she hadn't then the redness around Root's eyes would have given it away. She didn't mention anything though, realising that Root had obviously hidden it for a reason. Maybe that was a discussion for another time.

Although she was still rather keen to go out, Shaw did offer to stay in for another night if Root wasn't up to it. To her surprise, Root seemed eager to leave and was insistent that they still go out. When Shaw attempted to ask if she was sure, Root silenced her with a kiss, to which Shaw couldn't help but smile.

There was a thud, rather than a knock, at the door which interrupted them. Irritated, Shaw retrieved her gun, glaring in the direction of the other room.

"I swear to god if that's Fusco I'm gonna kill him," she said, approaching the door.

It was Fusco who'd arrived, but Shaw's initial anger was quickly replaced by concern as she saw the state he was in. Dried blood and bruises covered his face, and his breathing was laboured as if he'd run all the way there, which Shaw realised he probably had. His expression was a dangerous mix of pain and anger which meant Shaw knew without asking that something terrible had happened.

"They took my kid," explained Fusco, stumbling into the room.

"Who did?" demanded Shaw, instantly prepared to kill anyone involved.

"Who do you think?"

So Root had been right. Samaritan had been preparing for something, and worse still they'd managed to pull it off without the Machine noticing. But why take the kid and let Fusco go, thought Shaw. Unless, of course, they wanted something that he couldn't give them.

Fusco stood in the middle of the room, holding his head in his hands before turning angrily to Root.

"I thought you were meant to know about these things before they happened. Or is my kid not important enough?"

"I'm so sorry," said Root, placing a hand on Fusco's shoulder. "She didn't know. When we got good at working in the shadows, so did they. But we'll get your son back, Lionel."

Fusco's face softened a little at that reassurance.

"I didn't mean to snap," he said. "They want you. Any of you. I don't know what it is they want from you, but they're willing to trade."

Root glanced over at Shaw, and just from her face Shaw knew what she was about to say."

"They can have me."

"Like hell they can," said Shaw sharply. "I'm not losing you again."

"Normally, I'd be happy to go in guns blazing," said Root. "But we can't risk Fusco's son getting caught in the crossfire. One of us has to go."

"Then it should be me," said Shaw.

Root shook her head, a soft smile on her face. "They've already spent far too much time with you, Sameen. Besides, I'm the only one who can continue to communicate once they take me."

She gestured to the scar behind her ear, presenting it to Shaw as a way of making her point. Shaw let out a frustrated sigh. Once again Root was right. She hated it, but there weren't any other options. If they stood any chance of getting everyone back out alive, Root had to go. Reluctantly, Shaw agreed to the plan.

As they went to gather the weapons and other equipment they would need, Shaw pulled Root aside.

"Listen," she said quietly. "I don't know if we're both gonna get out of this. But I'm not risking losing you again without telling you exactly how I feel."

"Not now," said Root, stopping her before she could say any more. "I don't want you to tell me out of fear. I know this is going to work, and I trust you completely. When we both come back, which we will, I'll take you somewhere and you can tell me then."

Root cupped Shaw's cheek, her fingers lightly brushing against her skin. She then gave Shaw a brief, gentle kiss.

"I know this means more to you than it does to most people, so let's not waste it here." She ran her thumb along Shaw's cheek, giving her a reassuring smile. Shaw couldn't find the right words, so she nodded her head slowly to show Root that she understood.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, they finished getting ready as quickly as they could. The pair then headed back to the door where Fusco was waiting for them, the anger from earlier replaced with a fresh determination. Whatever happened next, they were certainly going to give Samaritan's agents a fight to remember.


	9. Chapter 9

The exchange went down as smoothly as it could have, which was at least of some relief to Root. Of course that meant she was now a prisoner herself, but she knew the kid was safe and that was all that really mattered. At the end of the day it wasn't his war, so if anyone should suffer for it then it might as well be the people involved. Besides, Root knew Shaw was coming after her, so it would only be a matter of time before she was free as well.

Tracking her location hadn't been as easy as she'd hoped though. Root had expected them to move location as soon as the exchange had taken place, but she certainly hadn't expected the number of countermeasures they used.

The first thing they'd decided to do was blindfold her to prevent her from communicating with the Machine or anyone else to tell them her location. Root wasn't surprised at all by that move, but it turned out to only be the beginning.

She lost count of how many times she was forced to change vehicles during the journey. Every now and then they would pull over in an area within the shadow map and a gun would be pressed against the side of her head, signalling to her that it was time to move. She would be guided to a different car and then a second later they'd be on the move again.

It was a clever trick really, no different to the street performers who'd put a ball in a cup and then move it around so much you'd lose track of where it was. Except in this version the ball was moved while you weren't looking, so the decision as to where it ended up was more a case of guesswork than skill.

The combination of the two techniques had been enough to fool the Machine. That shouldn't have been an issue though, because the actual plan had been to track Root via the cochlear implant. That's where the Samaritan operatives really had surprised them.

Root had no idea how they'd managed it, but they'd somehow found a way to create enough interference to prevent the Machine from being able to track her. She had to admit that it was at that point she'd started to panic, worrying that her plan had backfired horribly and that she would be at the complete mercy of Samaritan.

Thankfully, Shaw was an exceptional tracker even without the Machine's aid. It hadn't been easy and they were certainly times when Shaw would tell Root she'd thought she'd lost her, but she'd been able to pull through every time.

So Shaw had tracked her for what must have been at least a few hours, although Root had completely lost track of how much time had passed thanks to the blindfold which had left her sitting in an endless darkness.

When they'd finally removed the blindfold, Root had found herself seated in a relatively large room, surrounded by agents with guns trained on her at all times. The room was itself surrounded by windows, but they'd all been boarded up to prevent her from seeing outside. So much for the view, she'd thought.

According to Shaw, who'd managed to maintain contact with her despite the interference jamming the GPS tracking, she'd been taken to a tower block which had been pretty much abandoned and left to rot by its owners. From the number of stairs she'd been forced to climb, which had not been easy to do blind, Root assumed she was on quite a high floor. No doubt that was intentionally designed to make any attempted escape all the more difficult.

Root had initially been surprised to find that she hadn't been tied up to the chair she was seated on, that both her arms and her legs had been left free to move. But then she'd taken one glance at all the guns in the room and realised that they obviously hadn't felt the need. The message was clear enough: any attempt to escape and she'd be shot before she'd even left the chair.

Shaw had needed time to analyse the building and plan an attack before she could attempt to rescue Root, which was why she was now still in that same chair, staring down the man who'd been torturing her from the moment she'd arrived.

Root smiled up at the man, the kind of smile that often made Shaw roll her eyes, and the kind that she knew infuriated the man in front of her, especially as he was meant to be breaking her. He scowled down at her in response, but the confusion and frustration in his expression only made her smile widen more.

"You know, you're not very good at the whole torture thing," she said, taunting him. "I really did expect more from Samaritan's lap dogs. But I guess it must be harder for you to make decisions now Samaritan's brain is gone."

The man growled his response at her, practically snarling in a way that was so pathetic that it took all the control she had to stifle a laugh.

"I mean, even the government was more creative than this when they tortured me, and let's be honest that really doesn't reflect well on you." Root leaned forward in her chair, lowering her voice as she added. "I'd tell you what they did, but I wouldn't want to give you any ideas." She laughed. "God knows you need some."

As expected, that was enough to send the man over the edge. His fist crashed down ferociously to connect with the side of her jaw, then it came down again and again until eventually he hit her with enough force to knock her out of the chair and send her sprawling onto the cold, hard concrete floor. And for a second, Root's whole world went dark.

Her arm was the only thing that prevented her skull from cracking open on the concrete. Root groaned as she came to and tried but failed to block out the ringing in her ears and the pounding in her head. The metallic taste of blood had also entered her mouth, and she found herself wondering whether it had been the punches or the fall that had split her lip.

Root struggled to concentrate, to think straight, but the punches had left her dazed. Her eyes watered and her vision was blurred as well. She blinked. They didn't clear. She tried to swallow, but even that proved to be painful.

"Root?" A voice called out her name in her head. She recognised the voice and she felt certain she knew the person it belonged to. Then why couldn't she find a name? She wanted to scream from the frustration. "Root," called the voice again. "It's Shaw. Can you hear me?"

Shaw. Just hearing the name brought everything rushing back to her. Root cleared her head just enough to let her focus for a second. She realised that with her position on the floor, her face was completely blocked from view. This might be her only chance to speak to Shaw without being noticed.

"I can hear you," she replied quietly. "It's nice to hear your voice."

"Are you alright?" asked Shaw, her voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," lied Root. "Although it might be best if you could fast track a rescue," she added.

"I'll be with you soon. You just need to hold out a little bit longer."

Root went to reply, but before she could she felt hands grip her shoulders as she was dragged up and then dumped roughly back into the chair she'd fallen from. It looked like her conversation with Shaw was going to be cut short. She winced as the pounding in her head worsened, but there was no way in hell she was going to show any more signs of pain than that to the Samaritan bastards around her.

Root narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her, who, to her satisfaction, remained visibly angry as her glared down at her.

"Where is your Machine located?" he growled. Root let out a long, drawn out sigh, gleefully enjoying the additional irritation it gave to the man.

"As I've already told you, I don't know. As far as I know, the Machine sacrificed herself in order to destroy the horrific abomination that was Samaritan." Her face was blank and emotionless as she continued. "And she was never _my _Machine. She belonged only to herself."

The man snarled at her in the same pathetic way as he'd done earlier, before he began to pace back and forth in frustration, no doubt searching that empty mind of his to find out what he could do to make her talk. Root let him think. The longer he stayed there doing nothing, the more time it gave Shaw to get there and free Root from this mess.

The man finally came to his decision, and from the look in his eyes as he approached her, Root could only assume it was violence. Not that she'd expected anything else. At least Control's methods of torture had been interesting, she thought.

Root did wonder what had happened to her. Probably another victim of Samaritan's slaughter, she thought. Although, Root had to admit that she had been a resourceful woman, so maybe not. Then again, Root reminded herself as the man reached her, this was not the time to be theorising about Control's fate, whatever it was.

The man grabbed her hair with one hand, tugging her head back violently as he slammed his other fist into her stomach. She coughed and bent forwards as he released her, clutching her stomach as pain shot through her abdomen. It hurt like hell, though she doubted anything would ever come close to the immense pain of being shot there by a sniper rifle. Without thinking, her hand drifted over the scar that would forever remind her of that day.

"You really shouldn't have done that," she said, letting the pain feed venom into her words.

The man leaned down and moved closer until his face was uncomfortably close to hers, so close that she could smell his breath and the food that still lingered on it from his last meal, which from the smell could not have been good for him. Root resisted the urge to recoil, opting instead to stand her ground and stare him down.

"And why is that?" He asked.

Root's lips widened into a dangerous smile that sent the man backing away as she replied.

"Because I was supposed to be going on a very important date tonight, and I can only imagine how angry she's going to be when she gets here and sees what you've done to me. Trust me, she's going to make you hurt for it, especially since, unlike you, she actually knows how to properly torture a person."

The man let out a low laugh as he shook his head.

"We evaded your Machine. Pretend it doesn't exist anymore all you want, it doesn't matter. Just know that no one's coming to save you." He unleashed a wicked grin as he continued. "But part of me does hope that Sameen Shaw will be joining us. Maybe you'd be more forthcoming if we broke her instead, while you watched, helplessly."

Root clenched her fists as rage flashed across her face. She'd die before she let any of these monsters even lay a hand on Shaw. But if any of them were to hurt her, in any way, Root would be sure to give each and every one of them slow, painful deaths.

The sound of muffled gunfire in the distance drew her attention back to the matter at hand, and Root's smile returned as she turned back to the man.

"Looks like my date has arrived," she said with a small sense of glee.

Some of the colour drained from the man's face as he looked towards the door, where the sound of crashing and gunfire was getting louder by the second. He then turned with fury back to Root, before storming over to a table that had been set up in the corner to collect a knife.

"It's a shame," he said menacingly, "that you won't be alive to greet her when she gets here." Well so much for the whole torturing Shaw and making her watch, thought Root. That threat crashed and burned pretty quickly, didn't it?

Root did feel a small sense of panic rising as the man approached her with the knife. With all the guns still trained on her, she was in no position to fight back.

"Hey Sameen," she said hurriedly, "I could really do with a distraction right now."

"Give me a second," replied Shaw. The reply was followed by a series of grunts and crashes which Root could only assume meant Shaw was caught up in the middle of a fight. Root braced herself in preparation to fight as the man drew nearer with the knife. Fighting would almost certainly get her shot and killed, but she figured that anything must be better than being sliced apart. At least this way she may take the man down with her.

Root was a second away from using her chair to smash the grin straight off of the man's face when a clunking sound drew the attention of everyone in the room, including her own. She looked down to see a metal canister rolling across the floor towards her. Root smiled to herself and shook her head as gas began to fill the room. Of course this had been the plan Shaw had chosen to go for.

Root's eyes stung and watered like streams as the tear gas spread, but as painful and irritating as that was, it was the perfect distraction. The man became distracted as he turned to bark orders to the others in an attempt to control the chaos that erupted around them.

Root seized the opportunity. She sprung forwards, moving fast enough to prevent the man from having any chance to react. In a heartbeat, her arm was wrapped around his neck and she squeezed with all her strength. The man flailed about in her grasp, lashing out wildly with the knife still in his hand. Root let out a hiss as the blade caught her arm, but she didn't loosen her grip.

Soon, she felt the man's body slacken as the knife clattered onto the concrete. It was with some relief that she dropped his limp body onto the ground. Root's eyes still stung, but now her throat burned as well, not to mention she could barely see thanks to the gas.

It was only when the bullets started spraying around her that she realised how horrifically bad her position was. She was unarmed, injured, and in the centre of the room. It was only a matter of time before she would get caught in the crossfire between Shaw and the Samaritan operatives.

Root's initial reaction was to drop down low. That way, unless anyone had decided to shoot beneath knee-level, she should at least be safe from any stray bullets. The next thing she needed was a weapon. The gas was beginning to clear and she was going to need something to defend herself with if she wanted to stand even a small chance of staying alive.

She fumbled around until her fingers clasped the fallen knife. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. At least she could slash someone's ankles if they came too close. It wasn't much good against guns though, she had to admit. Well, she'd just have to throw it and hope for the best.

"Root, where the hell are you?" asked Shaw.

"Middle of the room," she replied, coughing as she spoke. "Was the tear gas really necessary?" she added.

"You're the one who wanted a distraction," snapped Shaw. "Besides, from what I gather that tear gas just saved your life. You should be thanking me."

Root had to admit that Shaw did have a point there. She stayed where she was, hoping that Shaw found her before anyone else did. Then the gunfire stopped suddenly, and Root felt a sense of dread begin to build up in her stomach. But then she heard footsteps approaching her and she didn't need to look up to know who they belonged to.

The smoke finally cleared and Shaw appeared, standing over Root. The first thing Root noticed was that Shaw was wearing a gas mask which she removed as she knelt down next to Root. That must have been nice for her, thought Root.

Shaw cupped a cheek in her hand as she studied Root's face. She then began gently tracing her fingers over the tender cuts, scratches and bruises that covered Root's face. If it looked anywhere near as bad as it hurt, then Root was not at all surprised by the concern that appeared in Shaw's expression.

"Which one of them did this to you?" asked Shaw, her voice shaking.

"It's taken care of," replied Root softly, taking Shaw's hands in her own, hoping that she'd be able to assure Shaw that she was alright. Shaw lowered her head, pressing her forehead softly against Root's.

"I told you it was a bad idea," she said.

"Well it worked, so it can't have been that bad," replied Root, drawing at least a hint of a smile from Shaw for the comment.

That was when the man Root had taken down began to stir. Before he could move, Root took the knife and pressed it against his throat.

"Now it's my turn to ask some questions," she said.

Root almost recoiled from disgust when the man began to laugh. His eyes drifted over to Shaw and then his grin returned as he looked back at Root.

Root's heart sank. There was something seriously wrong here. She turned to Shaw to see what she made of it, but her eyes had drifted over to the doorway, as if she'd suddenly felt the urge to get out as quickly as possible. Root pressed the knife down harder.

"Speak," she demanded.

"We knew you would never give up the location of your precious Machine," said the man. "But we also knew that if we could capture one of you, the other would come."

Root slowly shook her head. This didn't make any sense.

"Then why the evasion, the threats, the questions?" she asked.

"To keep you off the scent," he explained. "We knew this had to feel authentic if we wanted to trap you both here."

"What is he talking about?" asked Shaw.

Root turned to her with a defeated expression. "This whole thing was a trap," she said. "A set up, to get us both here. To kill us. Isn't that right?" She turned angrily back to the man.

"In a few seconds, a bomb is going to engulf this building, taking all of us with it. There's nothing you can do to stop it, and there's no way for you to escape."

Root slammed her hand down, tearing through the man's throat as she did so. She didn't want to hear another word come out of his mouth. She let go of the knife and grabbed Shaw's arm, dragging her towards the door.

"Root," said Shaw, pulling her back. "Root, look at me." She turned. Shaw's expression was just as desperate as hers, but it wasn't a desperation to run like hers was. "There's no point running," said Shaw, pulling Root into a tight embrace and burying her head in her shoulder.

Root didn't fight it. She let the tears fall as she held on to Shaw. Shaw had been right. This plan hadn't just been a risk, it was suicide. And now Shaw was going to die alongside her, and it was all her fault for not seeing this coming.

Shaw pulled out of the embrace for a second and looked at Root with more compassion than she'd ever seen before.

"I know you wanted to wait for a better time," she said, "but we're running out of that and I don't want to die without telling you." She took a steadying breath and gave Root one of those rare smiles that she just loved to see. "Root, I-"

She was interrupted by the sound of the door smashing open. They both turned to see Fusco burst into the room, weapon drawn.

"What are you doing here, Fusco?" asked Shaw angrily.

"Saving you two lunatics from the massive bomb downstairs," he replied. "You think I was just gonna let you storm this place without backup. I followed you here and sent in an anonymous tip to the feds. Luckily they brought the bomb squad. How did you miss that by the way?"

"I came in through a back entrance," said Shaw, both relieved and irritated.

"Well I better get you two out of here before the entire police department comes looking for you," said Fusco, gesturing towards the door.

"Can we just have a moment alone first, Lionel?" asked Root, putting on her sweetest smile.

"Sure," he said, taking a step out into the hallway.

Root could barely contain her relief as she turned back to Shaw. They'd come too close to death this time, but none of that mattered when she looked at Shaw and saw that she was alive, knowing that after some recovery, they'd both be fine.

"When I've had a bit of time to heal," she said, "I promise I'm actually going to take you out. Then we can finally discuss what you wanted to tell me on our own terms."

Shaw let out a small laugh. "You better keep that promise," she said, putting her arm around Root as they left the room together, leaving the dead Samaritan operatives for someone else to clean up.

Hopefully, they'd be able to put this whole thing behind them soon. Then things could begin to return to normal, whatever that was.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Notes:

I realise this is the first time I've added notes but I thought it would be good to give an update.

First, I just want to thank everyone who's been reading this. I really appreciate it and it means a lot to me to know that you guys have been enjoying it.

Also, I know I've been uploading less frequently recently, but bear with me. Things are busy for me at the moment but I am working on these… I promise.

A lot has been leading up to this chapter, so I wanted to get it right. I have a few ideas for where I want this to go now, but if any of you have some ideas then feel free to PM me as I'm open to suggestions at the moment. I might not end up writing exactly what you ask for, but your ideas could certainly influence where this ends up going.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

"I've gotta admit, this place is nice," commented Shaw, taking in the restaurant Root had taken her to. They were practically alone, as although there were other people around, all of the tables near them were reserved but unoccupied, giving them a private, quiet space to sit in. Beside the table was a wall of glass providing them with a view of the water below and the stars shining above in the clear sky of the evening. Shaw had never been one to take in the scenery, but this view… that was something even she could appreciate.

None of that compared to the view in front of her, though. Root looked… well she looked beautiful, and it was her gentle smile that drew Shaw's attention away from the scene outside. Part of her still couldn't believe that they'd both managed to survive this long, that somehow, despite all of the many close calls, they were finally together. But they were together, and Shaw wasn't going to waste another second of it by hiding her feelings anymore. She wasn't going to leave anything left unsaid, not this time.

"I'm glad you like it," said Root, glancing over for a second to admire the view before her gaze returned to Shaw.

"So did you pick this place out or did it come from the helpful friend in your ear?"

"I chose the restaurant," said Root, "but the added privacy was her touch."

Shaw glanced again at the empty tables surrounding them, realising now that they'd all been reserved for no one. It was a nice touch, though Shaw still found it strange that the Machine took so much interest in their personal lives. She supposed that was the relationship Root had always had with the Machine, but this concept was still rather new to her. The irony that the Machine cared for them more than most people did was not lost on Shaw, however. If anything, she found it funny that Finch had created a computer that seemed more human than most people did.

Shaw returned her attention to Root, who was now staring into the distance, appearing to be lost in thought. Root quite often zoned out like this, normally when something was worrying her. She'd actually stopped doing it for a while, but after their latest run-in with Samaritan it had become much more frequent again.

"As I was saying, it's really nice that we finally got the chance to do this," said Shaw, dragging Root back to reality.

"I just wish we could've done this sooner," said Root, her hand brushing over the swelling on her cheek that still hadn't completely gone down.

The horrifying image of how Root had looked after her torture was still fresh in Shaw's mind. Her face had been beaten to the point that it had been almost unrecognisable, and that was before the bruising had set in. Shaw doubted if by the end of it all there'd even been a single part of Root's face that hadn't been swollen, bruised or bloodied.

In that moment, Shaw had been so torn between wanting to make sure that Root was okay and her intense desire to punish the person responsible. She supposed it was only fair that, in the end, Root had the privilege of ending the man's life in the end, but she still wished she'd had the opportunity to take her time and give him the painful death he deserved. But then when that bomb had nearly gone off… them being alive had proven to be a good enough reward for her.

Then they'd gone home and Shaw had seen the rest of the damage, seen all the places the man had hit Root… all that rage had come flooding back. She'd had to keep reminding herself that Root had gone through worse before, that whilst it looked bad on the surface, it wasn't quite as bad as it seemed. But it had been bad, and although Root had played it off as nothing, she had clearly been in a lot of pain.

Shaw had forced Root to get at least _some _rest before they went anywhere, but in the end it was Root who'd delayed the trip. Shaw had actually been quite keen to finally tell Root how she felt, but Root had insisted that they waited until most of the swelling and bruising had gone down, saying that she 'didn't want to look bad' for their date. Of course, Shaw didn't care in the slightest how she would've looked or what anyone else would've thought, but Root could be very persuasive, and a serious pain to argue with.

Root shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wincing slightly as she did so. Shaw also noticed her discreetly slide a hand over her stomach, which Shaw knew had still been giving her pain.

Shaw jerked her head at the movement. "Still hurting?" She asked.

"Just aggravated an old wound," replied Root, though the smile she put on did nothing to hide the grimace as she spoke.

Shaw didn't need to ask which wound she was talking about. Even that permanent reminder of how close Root had come to death had been obscured by the black bruising that had covered most of her body after being held captive by Samaritan. Shaw met Root's gaze with a hint of concern.

"If it's bad, we can go back," she offered. "There's no point in staying here if you're in pain."

"No," said Root quickly, almost fearful at the thought of leaving. "Honestly, it's fine," she insisted, changing to a calmer tone to mask the sudden fear that had appeared.

Shaw wasn't fooled by Root's false assurances. It clearly wasn't fine, but Shaw didn't bother arguing with her. She'd given up on arguing with Root over stuff like this a long time ago. Besides, she supposed that Root's persistent desire to see the evening through was kind of sweet. Stupid, but sweet.

Shaw raised a skeptical eyebrow to let Root know that she didn't believe a word she said, but she left her response at that, choosing not to press Root any further on the subject. Root seemed grateful for that. She relaxed a bit, taking a sip from her glass.

Shaw did the same, though she took a much longer drink, and soon realised that she'd drained the glass entirely. She placed the now empty glass back on the table, the slightest, invisible tremor in her hand as she did so.

Shaw knew what she wanted to say, how important it was to get it right. But she'd never been any good at this kind of thing, so she had no idea how to say it. She didn't even know where to begin. That uncertainty, it made her… nervous.

Anxiety wasn't exactly an emotion Shaw was used to dealing with. She didn't know how to respond to it, which only made it worse and left her feeling irritated as well. She'd nearly died more times than she cared to count, and yet somehow it was this, a simple conversation, that made her truly nervous.

Shaw felt fingers brush against her own and she looked up to see Root lacing her fingers through hers, accompanied by that infuriatingly effective smile that always managed to disarm her. It worked, as she was sure Root knew it would, sweeping away most of the anxiety that Shaw had been feeling.

The way Root now looked at her, the way she always looked at her, made Shaw realise that it didn't matter what she said or how she said it, Root would love her the same regardless. But Shaw still wanted to get this right. So she took a deep, steadying breath, squeezing Root's hand as she prepared to say what she'd needed to say for some time now.

"For a long time," she began, holding Root's gaze as she spoke, "I thought I'd be alone for my entire life. It never bothered me, because I knew I could never feel anything for anyone. And when you came along I didn't even consider that anything would change. For some time-" she smiled. "For some time I really wanted to kill you. But you were so frustratingly persistent and I will be forever grateful for that. I've got to admit that all the flirting and teasing was genuinely annoying at first, but a part of me came to like it, and soon I felt all those walls I'd spent years building start to crumble away. The truth is, it scared me. It was that fear that prevented me for a long time from admitting to myself, let alone anyone else, that I had feelings for you."

Shaw hadn't known where she would go with this when she'd started speaking, but the more she spoke, the more she felt herself open up, and she found herself giving everything to Root. It felt strangely freeing to spill everything out to Root, to share her completely unfiltered thoughts. Some of what she now found herself saying she hadn't even admitted to herself yet, but she just felt so comfortable telling it all to Root.

"You were the first person I truly considered to be a friend," continued Shaw, "but even then I never realised how much more than that you would become. I never even considered that I would be capable of love… but I do love you, Root. By the time I realised that, I thought it was too late, and I just hoped that the kiss would have been enough to let you know how I felt. Then we found each other again, but I was so caught up in my own problems that I missed that opportunity too, and I thought I'd lost you forever. I'm just glad that after everything we've been through, I've finally been able to tell you how I feel, to thank you for helping me feel in the first place."

Tears had begun to fall down Root's face as Shaw finished speaking. She wiped them away and a small, gentle laugh escaped her lips as she replied. "You know, Sameen, I always believed that I didn't need to hear you say that, that knowing how you felt would be enough. But now…" she shook her head. "Now I realise just how wrong I was."

That was the most vulnerable Shaw had ever felt, but she was relieved by Root's reaction. She smiled to herself, wondering why she'd been worried in the first place. After all, it had been Root who'd pushed her for so long to embrace her feelings. Maybe she hadn't really been afraid that Root might see her differently, but rather she was afraid of how she might now see herself. But Shaw quite liked this new, more open side of herself. Of course Root was the only person she would ever allow to see it, but that didn't matter.

Root smiled back at her. Then she cocked her head to the side and asked, "Did you really know back at the stock exchange?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew," replied Shaw, surprised by the question. "Why else would I have done what I did?"

"I thought you were just saving the team."

"I guess I was, in a way. But the way I saw it, Reese was injured, Finch couldn't fight them off, and Fusco had a life outside of all of this. So it was me or you. And I realised in that moment that I couldn't bear to lose you."

"Well you certainly knew just how to distract me," said Root with a teasing smile.

"Oh I could've just pushed you out of the way," replied Shaw. "That kiss was more for me, a small taste of what I was giving up." She paused, then added, "But it was also to let you know that you were right. That I did have feelings for you, even if I realised it too late."

Root squeezed her hand again. "Luckily for both of us it wasn't too late." She was right. They'd both been through hell, but in reality they were lucky to have had more chances than Shaw would have ever dared to hope for.

In a strange way, Shaw was grateful for that day at the stock exchange. It may have led to the worst months of her life, but she often wondered how long it would have taken her to figure out what she felt for Root if she hadn't been forced to make that decision. Maybe if things had played out differently, she really would have realised it too late.

But there was no point dwelling on what could've been. Dragging her thoughts back to the present conversation, there was just one question left on Shaw's mind.

"So what about you? When did you realise you loved me?"

Root drew back, pondering over the question for a moment. Honestly, Shaw was a little surprised by this. It was the kind of thing she'd expect Root to have an instant answer for. But, then again, Root sure did love to complicate things.

"I knew I really liked you after that night we spent in the CIA safe house together," said Root with a playful expression. "I'm pretty sure I actually fell in love with you when you biked all the way to Samaritan's base just to keep me alive. That was the moment I knew."

Even Shaw couldn't help but smile looking back on that day. Going after Root just as everything was going to hell had been an impulsive and reckless decision. But she'd cared for Root, even if she hadn't been able to admit that to herself back then, and it was one of the few decisions she had no regrets about making. It was funny really, when she considered how oblivious, or at least in denial, she'd been of her feelings for so long.

Root's face softened as she continued. "I wanted to tell you exactly how I felt that night, you know. I thought about it and I very nearly did tell you. But I knew Samaritan was coming online, and I didn't want to tell you something that important right before we were forced to go into hiding."

"I'm glad you didn't," replied Shaw, to which Root raised a shocked eyebrow. "I knew you liked me, Root. But if you'd told me it was that serious back then, it probably would've scared me off."

"I guess it all worked out in the end, then," said Root, taking another drink from her glass.

"I guess it did," replied Shaw, filling her own glass up again so she could join her.

They spent the rest of the meal looking back at some of the more pleasant memories they had together, and occasionally sharing intimate details about their lives before they met that they hadn't mentioned before. It was the kind of event that Shaw had spent most of her life avoiding, but it was one of many things that she found she actually quite liked, as long as it was with Root.

Neither of them had wanted to return home after they'd finished eating at the restaurant. Root was still too injured for them to do anything interesting at home anyway. So they'd found one of the more respectable clubs of the area, where they were now sat at the bar, drinking and flirting their way through the night.

Root had begun to run her hand up Shaw's leg, brushing lightly against her thigh in a way that made her toes curl. Shaw felt Root tease her fingers higher, until they caught and the tension of the moment was lost to a light laughter.

"You know this would be a lot more romantic if you didn't have a gun strapped to your leg," said Root.

"Well I like to come prepared," replied Shaw. "Where else would I keep it?"

"I keep mine in my purse like a civilised person," said Root, patting the bag on the table beside her.

"Civilised?" Shaw snorted with laughter. "I once saw you curl up in a ball on the floor because you were too exhausted to walk to the bed."

"And yet I distinctly remember waking up in a bed," replied Root.

"Yeah, well I didn't want you to become a trip hazard."

"Mm-hmm." Root swirled her glass. "Whatever you say, sweetie." That earned Root a light thump on her arm. Her response was so overly dramatic that Shaw almost hit her again just for good measure, but she decided against it.

Root turned her attention to the people around them, and Shaw followed her gaze, wondering what that complicated mind of hers was coming up with now.

"We should dance," suggested Root, fixing Shaw with a stare.

Shaw shook her head. "First, I don't dance. And second, you're still injured."

"Then we can dance slow." Root huffed. "Come on, Sameen. This may be the only night we get together with a guarantee of no distractions. I want to make the most of it." Root pouted and offered her hand to Shaw. Shaw rolled her eyes, but reluctantly accepted. Root's eyes practically twinkled as she dragged Shaw onto the dancefloor.

The dancing wasn't as bad as Shaw had expected. The slow pace meant that they were basically just swaying along to the music, which allowed Shaw to just spend the entire time holding Root close to her. The pain did get to Root a few times though, and although she desperately tried to hide it, Shaw couldn't help but notice her wince every time it happened. She didn't say anything, instead silently offering Root a bit of extra support on each occasion, receiving a grateful smile in return.

Shaw caressed Root's cheek, her fingers lightly tracing over the swelling that remained.

"There's one thing I still don't get," she said. "Why did you put this off for so long?"

"I knew how important this night was," replied Root, brushing aside some stray hairs that had fallen across Shaw's face. "I just wanted everything to be perfect."

Shaw shook her head. "Root, all I needed to make this night perfect was for you to be here."

Shaw pulled Root down for a brief kiss, then she wrapped her arms around her and nestled her head against Root's neck and shoulder as they began to sway again. Root rested her own head against Shaw's, pulling her into an even tighter embrace as she did so.

They spent the rest of the night like that, locked in a tight embrace as they moved slowly from side to side. As Shaw held Root close, savouring the warmth and feel of Root's body pressed against hers, she hoped the night would never end.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry it's been so long since the last upload. I've had a few busy weeks but I've also been lacking motivation recently. However, the good news is that inspiration has returned so I'm back.

Uploads are going to be really inconsistent over the next few months but I'll try to write when I can. Hopefully I'll return to a more consistent upload schedule by June.

But for now, here's chapter 11. It's a pretty short one, but there's more to come.

Enjoy!

* * *

Root had not been prepared for how intense that night was. She'd thought she had been, but the moment Shaw had started speaking, speaking with such emotion, Root had realised that it just wasn't something that she could ever have been ready for. But the night had been as close to perfect as either of them could have hoped for, and after everything they'd been through, Root was grateful they had the time together at all.

She had no idea how long they'd been out for, but it was still dark outside, so it must have been somewhere in the early hours of the morning when they eventually returned home. Her injury still ached from the dancing, but she didn't mind. She did keep herself from wincing or displaying that pain in any way though, as she was sure it could only lead to a worried lecture from Shaw.

The Machine had been silent in her ear all night, which had been strange, but also a nice gesture to let her and Shaw have some privacy during what had ended up being a rather emotional evening. But now, as they approached their door, the Machine started speaking to Root again. An urgent warning, one which came too late for Root to convey to Shaw before she'd already opened the door and seen for herself.

They both entered to find Fusco asleep on their couch, snoring loudly. Shaw must have been tired, because she didn't even bother to say anything before turning back around and slamming the door, creating a bang loud enough to startle the sleeping detective. She did crack a smile though, as Fusco sat up so suddenly that he almost fell onto the floor.

Root attempted to tell Shaw the rest of the story she'd received from the Machine, but the noise had also summoned Bear, who came limping into the room, a bandage wrapped around one of his legs. Shaw's expression went from a tired curiosity to anger as she noticed what had happened. She moved angrily towards Fusco, who was still half asleep himself.

"Sweetie," said Root, holding Shaw back with one arm. "Let's try to stay calm."

Shaw whirled around to face Root, her face flushed with anger. "I'm perfectly calm," she said, her voice venomous, despite her failed attempts to disguise her anger. "I just want to know why we leave for one night and return to find the dog injured."

Root offered her a warm smile. "Maybe it's because Lionel was doing a really nice thing and covering the numbers for us while we were out."

Shaw huffed, still annoyed, but she relaxed a little as well, enough so that Root released her grip now that she was certain Shaw wasn't going to hurt anyone. Bear whined, and Shaw knelt down to stroke him and inspect his wounded leg. She seemed satisfied with the way Bear's leg had been treated, which gave Root some relief.

"Just tell me what happened," said Shaw, still holding the dog to her on the floor.

Fusco, who was now a bit more awake, replied. "Well, I was covering the numbers, like you said. But I didn't get a number this time, just a location. I took the dog with me 'cause it gets lonely out there, you know."

Shaw let out an exasperated sigh and Root gently lay a hand on her shoulder. "Then what happened?" asked Root, prompting Fusco to move to the more important part of the story.

"When I got there the whole place was a mess," continued Fusco. "There were Samaritan guys everywhere."

"What were they doing?" asked Shaw, now more curious than angry.

"Looking for some woman, I think. I didn't see anyone or hear a name so I don't know who, but they were very keen to find her."

"Someone on the run from Samaritan could be a potential ally," suggested Root, tilting her head as she looked down at Shaw.

Shaw nodded. "Could be. That still doesn't explain what happened to the dog, though," she added as Bear nuzzled her.

"It turns out I'm not quite as stealthy as you might've thought," replied Fusco, to which Shaw just rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I got into a shootout with a couple of guys. I didn't notice that one of them was sneaking up to me with a knife, but the dog did. He saved my life, but took a hit in the process."

Bear let out another low whine and Shaw kissed the top of his head. "You know what Lionel I'm in a forgiving mood so I'm gonna let this one go," she said. "But if you hurt my dog again there's going to be hell to pay." She then looked up to Root. "Any idea who this woman is?"

Root waited expectantly for an answer to come from the Machine, but none came. "It looks like she doesn't want to say."

"So what does that mean?" asked Shaw.

"Normally it means she has a plan. Or it means she doesn't want us to know."

"Wait, why wouldn't it want you to know?" This time the question came from Fusco.

"Well that usually means she's planning to do something we wouldn't approve of," said Shaw, fixing Root with a stare. "Something reckless. And it suggests we already know this person, which is even worse."

"We don't know that for certain," said Root, "so there's no use in making assumptions. We just have to trust in the Machine's judgement. In the meantime, there's not much we can do."

"Normally," said Shaw, stretching out her arms, "I'd complain about that. But I'm exhausted, so I'm honestly quite happy to wait around."

"Well that is unusual," said Root. "You must be losing your edge," she teased.

She smiled to herself as Shaw glared up at her, pleased that she was still able to draw a reaction from her. Shaw stood, her face only an inch away from Root's.

"If you weren't still injured," said Shaw, in a low voice so that only Root could hear, "I'd show you right now that I've still got it."

Root grinned. "I'm sure you would." She pecked Shaw's lips with a kiss, sliding a hand around her waist. Shaw gave a small smile, brushing her hand up Root's arm, slowly climbing up to her shoulder and eventually cupping her face.

Root, caught in the moment, started to lean in to kiss Shaw properly, only to be interrupted by the sound of Fusco loudly clearing his throat. Root blushed, slightly embarrassed that she'd forgotten he was still there. Shaw, on the other hand, shot him a glare that suggested she was more irritated than embarrassed by the interruption.

"You're still here?" said Shaw, lacking subtlety as always.

"Well I didn't know if I was still needed to help out with whatever this new development is," replied Fusco.

"No, I think we're gonna wait this one out," said Root.

"And what we're about to do doesn't exactly lie in your area of expertise," added Shaw, laughing to herself.

"Oh, yeah, real funny," said Fusco. "You know, I might have more time for that kind of stuff if I wasn't always busy helping you guys."

"Whatever you say," said Shaw, clapping him on the shoulder. "We appreciate you giving up your chance at love to occasionally help us out and getting the dog hurt."

Root held back a laugh as she placed her hands on Shaw's shoulders. "I think the detective's had enough teasing for one night, Sameen."

"Oh I was just getting started," replied Shaw, though she then added with a smile, "But I guess I can let him off for now."

Fusco shook his head as he headed for the door. "I'll see you two lunatics later."

"Thanks for covering tonight, Lionel," said Root. "Seriously, it meant a lot."

"Not a problem," replied Fusco, opening the door. "You two deserved a night off. If I'm being honest, you could probably do with a break more regularly."

"And leave Bear at risk of more injury?" Shaw huffed. "I don't think so." She smiled as Fusco left, leaving the two of them alone again.

Root put her arms around Shaw's waist again, pulling her close. "So... where were we?" She leaned in to kiss Shaw, who happily complied, running her hands through Root's hair and across her back as they kissed.

"We were going to bed," answered Shaw when they eventually pulled apart. "You need to rest."

"What I really need is you."

"You can have both, but we're not doing anything other than sleeping until you're better."

Root sighed. "You're such a good doctor, Sameen."

"And you're a terrible patient."

Root reluctantly accepted Shaw's hand and allowed Shaw to drag her to bed. She slid under the covers and felt the warmth of Shaw's body pressed against her own as Shaw joined her. Root really hoped her wounds would heal soon, and as she drifted off, sleep was the last thing on her mind.


End file.
